When life gives you bad practice rooms, grab life by the throat, throttle it, hide the body somewhere and do this.

I hate the practice rooms at BYU. Boasting worse ventilation than the men's locker rooms, sub-par pianos, poor lighting and no sound-proofing, if I didn't know these rooms were on a church-run campus, I'd say they were straight from a hell designed by 16th century monarchs looking to torture their more disappointing court musicians.

The ugly face of HFAC outer darkness.

It's a bleak picture to walk into after the euphoric triumph of passing the school's aural exams and making it into the school of music. For all the hype associated with the school and its subsidization via tithing funds, one would think the facilities would've been upgraded by now to help meet the unique challenges associated with 21st century competition in America and elsewhere. Alas, 'tisn't the case.

And while that might be distressing, discouraging even for some, I think I've found a way to account for most of the problems associated with the fact that these facilities were designed to coerce performers into more realistic careers as teachers.

Rather than blabber on endlessly about my solution, here's a few pictures that highlight my ideal practice room in a few deceptively short steps.

Stick a chair over there...

Put a laptop with your favorite affordable DAW over there (make sure your ram, CPU and hard drive are sufficient)

Then stick an audio box up there so your compy can talk with your mic. I like the Roland Quad Capture.

Throw in a quality dynamic mic, some amazing German headphones to account for all the noise and shwalla.

And suddenly, things were sounding a lot better. And the tuba blaring in the room next to me was only coming in at 15 decibels instead of 110. All told, this set up probably cost me a little more than a thousand dollars. The laptop didn't break 800, the quad capture was about 250, the mic I got for free (though usually those guys run around 500), and that's it. I could set this up in my truck if I wanted to because it all can be crammed into a 2x2 foot space. You could literally set this all up in a bathroom stall. Though I don't recommend it. If people get uncomfortable at the sound of other people's turds dropping audibly, I doubt they'll care much for your attempts at finding yourself creatively in the local porcelain palace.

DRAGON PUNCH!

'I work out every SATURDAY!'

Well this was fun. I don't often get to be in videos, mostly because the theater department at my high school was about as enticing as a double date with Freddy Krueger and his favorite lover Jason. 

Obviously this has nothing to do with music, with the sole exception of that toned down 80s flashback to toy/game commercials of the longer-haired, shorter-shorts days hailed as great by everyone who was high on one of about 500 different kinds of narcotics at the time. That music being the product of my less than two hours' worth of exertion. Which really isn't saying much. Have you heard standardized guitar licks for commercials in the 80's? It's not like they hired Van Halen for every shoot you know. If they had I would've muttered more than one or two choice words after being asked to do this particular job.

A rare, to-scale canvas rendering of the famed guitarist.

But fortunately it wasn't the case, and proved to be mildly more challenging than writing a riff for a be-bop solo. So there you have it folks, what I'm going to call my acting debut (since I'm sure as hell not going to call the 'Bavarian Butcher' my first foray into acting). 

Cheers!

Acting Debut and Video Editing

Psych, no debut here, but the video's complete. I just finished recording the music for, editing, and mixing a silly ad for the undeniably rad board-game reviewing website, SPACE-BIFF!.

Space-Biff!, in all its unfettered, board-gaming glory. Evolution is an awesome game btw.

That's not the game we did a video for, but my goodness. Evolution is awesome. If you want an amazing, reasonably accurate paleontological experience then look no further (with the notable exceptions of Greenland and Neanderthal), because this game's got it all.

Before this turns into a review for a board game, let me just say what a blast it was acting and editing once again for the same bit of film. Obviously there was a different director and clearly a better camera at work, but it was still fun. It helps that the director is my best pal in the universe and I'll pretty much do anything he asks short of cutting off my generations forever. 

Cause' you know...I want one of these! And not just for the bathroom stall.

There was music involved too...I did write and record it. But I won't be posting it here because it was uh, very much not a stand-alone piece. Yeah, that's how I'll put it. The director, no less than the great Dan Thurot (Thur-OHt), told me he loved it, but it's not a style I do all the time so I'm not as comfortable spreading it all across the internets like I would jelly over toast on a particularly hunger-inducing morning. 

But when it's up I won't stop you from watching it, nor will I shy away from admitting the music is my own. Dan told me it'll be up sometime this week when he does a review for the game DRAGON PUNCH, and then I'll also post the link here for your viewing pleasure, heh.

El Camino High School Music Program

I've heard a smattering of times that it's good to remember where you come from. I wonder out loud to myself, "Why is that? Is there some sort of special advantage to be had from remembering one's origins?" Certainly, there's value in determining the original source of one's success in order to replicate it. But why carry a homage to something that has perhaps only sentimental value, or worse, is a poor memory of distant hardships long left in the dust?

I may never know the answer to the latter two questions, because this was a damn good school for music.

"If you can make it at El Camino, you can make it anywhere", said the principal, despite knowing the metaphor was wasted.

El Camino High School was in the midst of the beginning of its golden era in the music program when I first attended. A great new band director, Mr. Glaser, had been slowly but surely building up the scene for some years prior to my arrival. The choir was...well you know, it was a good enough choir. I tried it once. Fun times. The theater department was interesting, as were its students.

The right face is your face. The left one is your face once you've joined a high school theater department.

Anyway, the programs for jazz and classical respectively were chugging along at a locomotive's pace, unwavering, building up to a strong hum semester after semester, and in 2001 I found myself caught up in the swirl.

When I first tried the sax out in my middle school jazz band, I got in because the band teacher pitied me. He wanted all older middle school students to have a shot, and I was grateful to get one. The music we played soared through my veins and gave the distinct impression that some part of me was beginning to fly for the first time. Perhaps it's not a coincidence that I had many dreams back then of soaring over the clouds. It was also a great time for my physical health. The teacher relegated me to the lowly task of bari saxophone, and cured my asthma for all intents and purposes.

Move ahead one year- coming to El Camino I was much more well-equipped to introduce myself to their world of music, and initially I was O.K. So you know, pretty awful, but still in tune half the time, as long as it wasn't a D or very high or very low, etc etc.

And then something magical happened. I'm not sure when the combination of Mr. Glaser's teaching us to be unafraid and my urgent desire to make something new lit a fire. You see, Mr. Glaser's students, by and large, were fearful of soloing, with the exception of one or two other kids. So when I volunteered for every single song, he permitted it, even encouraged it. At first things were pretty shaky, but gradually, almost imperceptibly, a raging flow of music and creative ideas exploded from my head along with a surge of unspeakable joy. I had become linked to music and creation in a way I had never really experienced before, and to this day it remains one of the most beautiful and happy memories I'm capable of recalling.

Caveat: Improvisation also leads to neural-electric overload. 

I guess what I'm driving at is that as long as Mr. Glaser or his legacy remains at that school, it will be, in my opinion, the finest school of music the San Juan Unified school district has to offer. Because unlike virtually every institution I've been to, no one I've met has fostered creativity, fresh thinking, and innovation while still recognizing the value of tradition like Mr. Glaser has.

Dance That Noise Away Music Video Complete

Alright it's up! At long last, the reason behind my massive canker sores and raging colds comes to a conclusion. I might get to sleep for an hour tonight.

As was mentioned before, there were a ton of things to learn from this project. Perhaps mostly how to improve for next time. Using less auto-focus, having way more prep time, using better lighting for slow motion shots, not being late for the shoots you planned to the point where one of your extras is starting to lose her health because you've held her to the point where she isn't taking her meds. You know, things like that. 

Perhaps a more positive thing that was gleaned from this situationally ambitious project was what I'm capable of producing in a very short period of time. It took me approximately twelve hours to write the song, record it, mix and master. It took another twelve to sixteen for the filming, cutting, editing and final production of the whole video. Granted, there were a lot of flaws remaining in both due to the time constraints; nevertheless, the process illuminated interesting new possibilities. Like uploading a simpler song per day while working on more ambitious songs and videos in the interim. 

I doubt I'll actually be able to upload a song per day, but to do so with increased frequency is certainly an ambition of mine now that I've gone through this rather fun process once. So pull out your aural filters and get ready for a McDonald's speed production of day old music, because that's the next experiment on my docket. 

Video Coming Tomorrow Morning! (Or uh, today, since this post was finished by this morning)

All the work, delaying irrelevant homework, juggling two jobs and full-time school in such a way that allows me to spend a little time on the projects that actually matter is about to pay off.

Will the camera's potential energy go kinetic at any moment? That's what I wonder every time I haul that thing on my PC.

The editing is finished, the recording is properly mixed, the quality raised to HD. There's only a few more things to add and then, tomorrow morning at long last, my terribly amateur video will make its way from my brain's womb out into the open, probably looking as hideous and lizard-like as most babies do at that point.

I'm keenly aware that nothing will come of this. I could barely get half my friends to come out to goof off with me for the final shoot. At best it'll be a fun inside joke between pals, at worst someone on reddit will notice it exists.

For me the victory comes in finishing the project. It's the beginning of the most important of processes, one where all the wheels of the kinds of creativity I value most turn endlessly and at breakneck speeds to produce something new and different. You see this is all very much new to me, and I don't look at my creative output at this juncture as anything financially viable as much as I view it as a hopeful learning experience that may at some future date open up avenues to opportunities that will translate into something more substantive. 

 In the meantime, my room is clean, the homework is done, I've got work, there's a beautiful girl in my life and things are good. =)

I'll be up bright and early tom-...oh it's one in the morning. Well, I'll be up in a few hours and after work I'll finish the video and upload it for your viewing pleasure/disdain/whateveritisyoutubersliketodothesedays.

G'night.